The Drygulch Trail by Ned Oaks

Author:Ned Oaks
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780719821165
Publisher: Robert Hale

CHAPTER SIX

Two days later fear came to Junction City. It looked like it had come to stay.

There were ten men this time, all bearing the unmistakable aura of the professional killer. Each bore a badge, too – the badge of a deputy sheriff of Lane County. Word had it that Clem Dawson had paid big money to have these men deputized. Everyone knew he had a lot of connections at all levels of government in the state of Oregon.

Weeks passed.

Dawson was taking no chances this time. His right arm was still in a sling from the bullet Will Curtis had sent through his wrist. Everywhere he went he was accompanied by three of the ‘deputies’ he’d brought to town. Every weekday residents would see him walk to the bank in the morning and then return home in the evening, three large, dark-visaged men walking with him, their eyes scanning the buildings around them. Two other guards were on permanent watch at the Dawson residence. The others patrolled the streets in shifts, looking for any sign of the local homesteaders who were opposing Dawson. The banker hadn’t sent the gunmen into the hills to retaliate. Yet.

His son, Alvin, was bedridden, paralysed by another bullet fired by Curtis. The sawbones told Dawson that Alvin would never walk again. Although he never verbalized his feelings, Alvin Dawson bitterly regretted having taken his pistol and trying to defend his father that night. Where had it got him? A life sentence as an invalid. His father had never thanked him for the sacrifice Alvin had made on his behalf.

There was no dissent in Junction City. Local residents had been frightened of Dawson before, but now there was no question that it was his town, and that they would abide by his rules.

In the meantime, Clem Dawson was busy making plans. He knew Will Curtis was still around, hiding somewhere up in the hills among the recalcitrant homesteaders. The ranchers and farmers in the area were now united in their opposition to Dawson. Those who had wavered in the past about selling their land to him now stood firm. They wouldn’t sell, no matter what the offer was.

It was now a battle of wills, and might.

But if there was one thing Clem Dawson believed, it was that every man has his price. His experiences in business and politics had taught him that, time and time again. So he planned his strategy, unworried by the opposition in the hills.

Because he had found a man – one of the homesteaders – and that man had named his price. He really had no choice.

Dawson set his plan into motion on a frosty night in late November.

Will Curtis had lost so much blood after Clem Dawson shot him that he almost didn’t make it out to Phil Shirreffs’s spread that night. It had taken the dedicated ministrations of both Sally and Maggie Bannerman to pull him through, along with some help from Abe Bannerman himself, who had some experience with dressing wounds.

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